


Forever

by nomercyhere



Category: Full House (US)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Joey Is A Good Friend, Post Becky's Death, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24704434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomercyhere/pseuds/nomercyhere
Summary: He thought she was his forever. Now his forever, is no more.
Relationships: Becky Donaldson Katsopolis/Jesse Katsopolis, Jesse Katsopolis & Joey Gladstone
Kudos: 12





	Forever

Jesse’s sitting at the table with Steph, trying to explain adding fractions. Today has not been his day.

The moment he woke up, his shower was broken. He tried to fix it, but couldn’t, ended up breaking it more. Then the twins needed a ride to preschool, which was supposed to fall on DJ’s shoulder on the way to yearbook club, but got pushed on to him at the last minute when DJ got a call from Kimmy about some girl emergency. That put him behind by 20 minutes at the radio station, and of course today was the one day that his boss was coming in to sit in on their segment. And then Michelle had thrown up at school, and he’d had to be the one to go pick her up, make sure she was ok, and stay at the house with her until everyone else got home. Normally, those things would’ve been fine.

But without Beck…

Without Beck, nothing was ever fine. 

He normally could deal with the pain. It ripped his insides apart, searing a hole in his chest, but he could keep it under wraps enough that no one else could tell. But today, everything is compounding, including Steph’s refusal to even try to understand fractions the way that he’s explaining them, and it just all falls down on him.

Jesse tries to regulate his breathing. He really does.

“Ok, Steph, let’s try this again.” Deep breath in.  
“Two fourths, plus four fourths, equals what.” Deep breath out.

He sees Steph look at him out of the corner of his eye. She looks down at the book and then back at him. “Ummmmm… two wholes and four fourths? That's right, right? Why are you breathing so weird?”

He can’t take it anymore. It’s not sharp and sudden, like it was before. It’s a slow pain, like drowning, as his head sinks down to meet the table, the stickiness of Michelle’s spilled apple juice he'd forgot to wipe up clinging to his cheek.

“Uncle Jesse, are you ok?”

He doesn’t respond. He’s not, and he knows he’s not. He’ll never be ok. Not without her. She made him better, she made him whole. Now he can’t even look at his own children, walk into his bedroom, or get onto his bike without thinking of her absence. As soon as his eyes open for the day, another part of him shuts. His mouth opens, and he doesn’t mean to speak, but the words come tumbling out, tripping over each other.

“I need her. I need her back.” Tears start running down his cheeks, but he isn’t crying. They’re just leaking out, they do that every day now. 

“I can’t keep going like this.” His voice breaks into a hollow whisper and he closes his eyes. “Why did my angel have to leave me.” It isn’t even a question. He closes his eyes, hearing Stephanie quietly get up and leave the room. 

‘Steph shouldn’t have to see me like this’ He thinks, but then his mind says, ‘But this is how we are. We’ll always be this way. She’s never going to come back, and we’re never going to be happy.’

His eyes remain closed as he hears Danny come into the room with a quiet, “Oh, Jess.” Danny leaves, but Jesse doesn’t care. He knows he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how many people are there or not, he’ll always be alone without her.

He stays there for what feels like hours, his face on the table as his tears spill down. His eyes open only when he feels cold, hard plastic pressed against his cheek, and hears a voice coming through the telephone. 

“Jesse? Jess, are you ok?”

He opens his mouth to speak to Joey, but the words don’t come out.

“Jess, I’m gonna drop my errands and come home. Can you put Danny on the phone? Danny?” 

Jesse can’t move, and Danny removes the receiver from where he’d been holding it on Jesse’s face, stepping into the basement to talk to Joey. 

Jesse still isn’t crying. He knows he’s not. The tears are coming out, but his breathing isn’t laboured. If anything, it’s calmer than before. Keeping up the façade, that’s what he can’t handle. Having to go about all the normal activities like life is normal. Having to pretend that everything is good. Having to be strong for his boys. That’s where the struggle lies.

But here, tears making a puddle as he rests on the table, it just feels peaceful. He wishes it could never end, he could just lie there forever. He knows she’ll be laying down for the rest of forever, so why can’t he?

He hears the back door open and shut, and the telltale sound of Joey’s sneakers squeaking on the floor as Joey pulls out the chair beside Jesse and sits down. Jesse keeps his eyes shut, knowing he can't deal with anyone else apart from his mind. 

Joey doesn’t know what to say. What to do. Jesse’s been like this for months now, and there’s never any resolve. Jesse always just pretends that nothing happened afterwards, like he wasn’t moved out of reality for multiple hours.

So this time, Joey leans over. He grabs Jesse and pulls him up to face him. Jesse’s eyes slowly open, and Joey stares back into them. The heartbreak shown in Jesse’s face is reflected in his own. Jesse looks into Joey’s baby blues, and sees him. He really sees him. His friend. His friend who has a place in his heart. Who feels so deeply about him that he’d drop everything to be with him. His family.

And then Jesse breaks down. For the first time in months, he allows himself to truly start to cry, and Joey pulls him onto his lap and holds him close. Jesse always likes to be strong, he needs to be the one to comfort others. But this, this is like what Becky would’ve done for him. He needs this. He needs her. And a part of him whispers that he needs Joey too.


End file.
